Please note that (unlike most posts on this blog) this is not a sermon that I preached at FPC Lafayette. It is a personal reflection on a recent experience as a faith leader in our community.
An active attender of my congregation contacted me a few days ago to invite me to a press conference/protest for the relocation of the Gen. Mouton monument in downtown Lafayette. While it was not entirely unexpected – given recent events around the nation – I have to admit that I was caught off guard.
I was caught off guard, because I was not as clear on my position on the issue as I expected to be. There are probably a whole host of reasons that I was not clear, but I think it comes down to a feeling that all the focus on statues may be distracting us from institutional issues of racism. Truth be told, I am also aware that there are good people of faith in my congregation that disagree over the connection between the statues and institutional racism, and my stance (either way) has the potential of alienating some and eliminating the possibility of conversations between all of them.
That said, I have friends that marched in Charlottesville and in other cities, and I long for a public statement of unity by the clergy like the one made in Charlottesville. Even so, I know that standing together against specific actions of individuals spouting hatred is a lot easier than standing together in the face of racism as a concept. Embracing the racism as an institutional reality requires us to ask what part we play, and most people just don't want to ask that question – present company included. Ultimately, I decided that I would go down – amidst rumors of counter protests – and stake out a spot with a sign that said, "I am here to listen to you, and to pray." It wasn't my idea. It was modeled after Urban Confessional: A Free Listening Movement.
So, I took my sign and some bottles of water to share, and when I got there I found that the gathering was a reasonable size. I'd guess there were 100 people or maybe more. No one was obviously opposed to moving the statue. Most were obviously in favor. The gathering was in a little triangle with active traffic on either side. The coffee shop I was going to set up outside of was across the street, and I couldn't hear what was being said. So, I stayed on the fringe.
Turns out there were other clergy there, but none that I knew. I was the only one in a collar. There wasn't anyone who sought me out as a listening partner, but I did have a few conversations after the speeches were delivered. I saw some familiar faces of others who attend our congregation regularly. The crowd was racially diverse, though it was primarily black and white (50/50ish). Still, it was a small crowd for a city of over 125,000.
The primary argument for relocating the monument was not for its connection to the Civil War but for its connection to Jim Crow laws that effectively created a caste society for more than a century. While Jim Crow laws were removed or repealed by 1970, their effects are still experienced today in ways that are subtle and overt. While we could split hairs on the specific connection between this statue and those laws, what I heard in speeches and conversations with both blacks and whites gathered there was a strong feeling that this statue is both a part of our history that must be preserved in a reasonable space and a symbolic representation of the racial divisions that should not receive a position of prominence.
There's a pretty good article on theadvertiser.com if you want more pro/con. It features the comments of a man who grew up under segregation as well as a group advocating that it stay. As for me, my role is to be a Spiritual leader who encourages the good in all of us and confronts the sin that separates us from God and one another. So, let's turn to scripture.
"You shall not make for yourself a carved image..." -Exodus 20:4
Ok, before we start down that road, I am aware that Exodus 20:4 is about idols of worship. I'm also aware that the statues of Confederate Generals that are the center of so much controversy are not regarded as gods or idols of worship.
That said, I think it is important to think of these statues – in light of current events – as what H. Richard Neibuhr called "centers of value". Neibur actually argues that we are culturally polytheistic, because we have so many centers of value apart from the one source of value that actually is God. In that sense, anything can be an idol. So where do we draw the line? Personally, I think we have to work that out in our communities. It's not a one size fits all, even if there may be some common threads.
At the end of the day, as my 11 year old son said, "It's just a carved rock." Yet it is a carved rock that we have ascribed value to. I truly do not think that God cares if that carved rock stays or goes, but God cares about the way it affects how we treat one another. I believe God cares about our ability to consider the whole history of these statues, particularly the when and the why of their installation (i.e. original purpose and function of Stone Mountain, white supremacy plaque at Liberty Place Monument in NOLA and it's intended implications for the state). I do think God cares about the level of value we give that carved rock, and the way in which we allow it to define us and our relationships with one another (victor, victim, etc.).
Personally, I find the Jim Crow argument compelling and believe that it is good and right to have these discussions. That said I also appreciated former Mayor of Atlanta and Civil Rights Activist, Andrew Young's comment that rather than defacing Stone Mountain they should install a "Freedom Bell". Then Dr. King's words, "let freedom ring from the Stone Mountain of Georgia! Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain in Tennessee! Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill in Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring."
Of course, installing a bell won't fix our problems any more than tearing down a statue will, unless we are willing to cross color lines and have intentional conversations about the problems that we cannot see or hear in our echo chambers of race and social class.
I do applaud our city for addressing concerns about this monument through civil discourse and legal process. It was an answer to a prayer lifted up by a 101 year young member who prayed yesterday at lunch, saying, "Dear God, make us a beacon of light that shows the world how to deal with problems without resorting to violence."
I'm also glad to know that so many of these statues across the country are being archived or displayed in museums, and I think destroying them is criminal. My personal belief is that these symbols of one aspect of Southern North American heritage impact us all negatively when they are in places of prominence and value whether we view them fondly or not, but I also believe that – as public works – they are a matter to be decided through civil government.
Beyond all that, my bias is toward those that have felt wounded for generations and only now have the courage, power, and political will to speak up. My bias is toward the ones who have been on the outside of circles of power, because I believe that it is the bias that Jesus proclaimed when he unrolled the scroll and said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free."
Those words apply to my need for freedom as much as they do to anyone else's, and yet Jesus calls me and you to be a part of his mission of proclaiming freedom through the faith he has given us. It is my hope and prayer that we who follow Jesus will keep Jesus' mission in the forefront of our minds as we work out the sometimes difficult task of being human together. Besides, it's just a carved rock, right?
Peace be with you.
An active attender of my congregation contacted me a few days ago to invite me to a press conference/protest for the relocation of the Gen. Mouton monument in downtown Lafayette. While it was not entirely unexpected – given recent events around the nation – I have to admit that I was caught off guard.
I was caught off guard, because I was not as clear on my position on the issue as I expected to be. There are probably a whole host of reasons that I was not clear, but I think it comes down to a feeling that all the focus on statues may be distracting us from institutional issues of racism. Truth be told, I am also aware that there are good people of faith in my congregation that disagree over the connection between the statues and institutional racism, and my stance (either way) has the potential of alienating some and eliminating the possibility of conversations between all of them.
That said, I have friends that marched in Charlottesville and in other cities, and I long for a public statement of unity by the clergy like the one made in Charlottesville. Even so, I know that standing together against specific actions of individuals spouting hatred is a lot easier than standing together in the face of racism as a concept. Embracing the racism as an institutional reality requires us to ask what part we play, and most people just don't want to ask that question – present company included. Ultimately, I decided that I would go down – amidst rumors of counter protests – and stake out a spot with a sign that said, "I am here to listen to you, and to pray." It wasn't my idea. It was modeled after Urban Confessional: A Free Listening Movement.
So, I took my sign and some bottles of water to share, and when I got there I found that the gathering was a reasonable size. I'd guess there were 100 people or maybe more. No one was obviously opposed to moving the statue. Most were obviously in favor. The gathering was in a little triangle with active traffic on either side. The coffee shop I was going to set up outside of was across the street, and I couldn't hear what was being said. So, I stayed on the fringe.
Turns out there were other clergy there, but none that I knew. I was the only one in a collar. There wasn't anyone who sought me out as a listening partner, but I did have a few conversations after the speeches were delivered. I saw some familiar faces of others who attend our congregation regularly. The crowd was racially diverse, though it was primarily black and white (50/50ish). Still, it was a small crowd for a city of over 125,000.
The primary argument for relocating the monument was not for its connection to the Civil War but for its connection to Jim Crow laws that effectively created a caste society for more than a century. While Jim Crow laws were removed or repealed by 1970, their effects are still experienced today in ways that are subtle and overt. While we could split hairs on the specific connection between this statue and those laws, what I heard in speeches and conversations with both blacks and whites gathered there was a strong feeling that this statue is both a part of our history that must be preserved in a reasonable space and a symbolic representation of the racial divisions that should not receive a position of prominence.
There's a pretty good article on theadvertiser.com if you want more pro/con. It features the comments of a man who grew up under segregation as well as a group advocating that it stay. As for me, my role is to be a Spiritual leader who encourages the good in all of us and confronts the sin that separates us from God and one another. So, let's turn to scripture.
"You shall not make for yourself a carved image..." -Exodus 20:4
Ok, before we start down that road, I am aware that Exodus 20:4 is about idols of worship. I'm also aware that the statues of Confederate Generals that are the center of so much controversy are not regarded as gods or idols of worship.
That said, I think it is important to think of these statues – in light of current events – as what H. Richard Neibuhr called "centers of value". Neibur actually argues that we are culturally polytheistic, because we have so many centers of value apart from the one source of value that actually is God. In that sense, anything can be an idol. So where do we draw the line? Personally, I think we have to work that out in our communities. It's not a one size fits all, even if there may be some common threads.
At the end of the day, as my 11 year old son said, "It's just a carved rock." Yet it is a carved rock that we have ascribed value to. I truly do not think that God cares if that carved rock stays or goes, but God cares about the way it affects how we treat one another. I believe God cares about our ability to consider the whole history of these statues, particularly the when and the why of their installation (i.e. original purpose and function of Stone Mountain, white supremacy plaque at Liberty Place Monument in NOLA and it's intended implications for the state). I do think God cares about the level of value we give that carved rock, and the way in which we allow it to define us and our relationships with one another (victor, victim, etc.).
Personally, I find the Jim Crow argument compelling and believe that it is good and right to have these discussions. That said I also appreciated former Mayor of Atlanta and Civil Rights Activist, Andrew Young's comment that rather than defacing Stone Mountain they should install a "Freedom Bell". Then Dr. King's words, "let freedom ring from the Stone Mountain of Georgia! Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain in Tennessee! Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill in Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring."
Of course, installing a bell won't fix our problems any more than tearing down a statue will, unless we are willing to cross color lines and have intentional conversations about the problems that we cannot see or hear in our echo chambers of race and social class.
I do applaud our city for addressing concerns about this monument through civil discourse and legal process. It was an answer to a prayer lifted up by a 101 year young member who prayed yesterday at lunch, saying, "Dear God, make us a beacon of light that shows the world how to deal with problems without resorting to violence."
I'm also glad to know that so many of these statues across the country are being archived or displayed in museums, and I think destroying them is criminal. My personal belief is that these symbols of one aspect of Southern North American heritage impact us all negatively when they are in places of prominence and value whether we view them fondly or not, but I also believe that – as public works – they are a matter to be decided through civil government.
Beyond all that, my bias is toward those that have felt wounded for generations and only now have the courage, power, and political will to speak up. My bias is toward the ones who have been on the outside of circles of power, because I believe that it is the bias that Jesus proclaimed when he unrolled the scroll and said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free."
Those words apply to my need for freedom as much as they do to anyone else's, and yet Jesus calls me and you to be a part of his mission of proclaiming freedom through the faith he has given us. It is my hope and prayer that we who follow Jesus will keep Jesus' mission in the forefront of our minds as we work out the sometimes difficult task of being human together. Besides, it's just a carved rock, right?
Peace be with you.
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